


Really Really.

by DontOffendTheBees



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Love Confessions, Post-Season/Series 02, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 11:32:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4785818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontOffendTheBees/pseuds/DontOffendTheBees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake has an infuriating way of walking out right after big confessions. And in some cases, not even realising what he's confessed. Not that it comes as a surprise to the rest of the precinct, of course, but Amy damn sure wants some answers. </p><p>Fluffy introspective Peraltiago, 'Romantic Stylez' hit-and-run-confessor Jake strikes again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Really Really.

**Author's Note:**

> 'Sup.
> 
> Yes, I should indeed be writing Broken Masks and the B99 Hogwarts AU, but because I'm impatient and fickle I decided to waste time on this dumb lil' love confessions ficlet anyway.
> 
> Post-season 2, Gina and Holt are back and Jamy is a thing, albeit a lowkey thing as far as the precinct's concerned (or so they think, but Jake and Amy have no chill and we know it). Tooth-rotting fluff and dorky Shrek references (hence the title- did you read it in his voice? Hope so. Sorry there's no Holt to speak of in this fic, this all came out in the space of an evening and I didn't realise 'til I was done what it was lacking. Hopefully it's not too shoddy though.
> 
> Enjoy!

The first time Jake tells her he loves her, he’s out the door five seconds later. And those five seconds are nowhere near enough time for Amy to form a response since the confession had come, at least to her own eyes, completely out of the blue.

It had started out as a perfectly normal day- she was awoken by her alarm, got out of bed to switch off her back-up alarms, brushed her teeth, sent a quick good morning text to Jake (because no, they were _not_ living together as the rest of the squad frequently assumed, the fact that they happened to enter work at exactly the same moment most days was pure happenstance- well, that and the fact that Jake would often lurk outside the precinct to ambush her with a kiss most mornings so they could walk up together. At least he wasn’t rolling in late anymore) and been on her way, stopping off en-route to pick up a bagel for her breakfast. The fact that she also bought one for Jake was really nothing to write home about, she just knew from experience that he wouldn’t have bothered to eat anything nutritious yet. The fact that his mouth always tasted like orange soda first thing told her all she needed to know about his morning routine.

She’d parked the car, been adorably ambushed, handed Jake his bagel and taken the elevator with him to their floor, shrugging off the customary smug (Gina, Rosa) and ecstatic (Boyle) looks from their co-workers as they’d taken their seats. The fact that their computers, once situated firmly in the middle of the desks, were now angled off to the side was really neither here nor there. Evidently, she had felt like a change. So had Jake. Big deal. Not that she was complaining about her new uninterrupted line of sight, but she was hardly one to change her perfect desk arrangement just for a better view of her boyfriend. She was a professional.

She’d worked on her cases, he’d worked on his. They’d tossed the rubber band ball back and forth between them for some time as they swapped theories on the Bragdanowytz case. Jake and Rosa had been called into Holt’s office, only to leave minutes later under orders to check out a crime scene a few blocks away. Jake had flung on his jacket, planted a swift (and weirdly wet because apparently Dora isn’t the only sloppy kisser in Brooklyn) kiss on her forehead, and sang a cheerful farewell as he and Rosa ducked into the closing elevator.

But today’s farewell had stood out. The forehead kiss, she had expected. But usually what followed was a cheery ‘Laterz!’, or a cocky ‘Wish me luck- not that I’ll need it!’. Or, in cases when he was feeling goofy and romantic, a dapper-sounding ‘Until this evening, m’lady!’.

But what came out of his mouth today, without hesitation, was: “’Kay, love you, _byeeeee_!”

Amy was aware that she probably looked like a fish out of water right now, but she couldn’t quite will her mouth to close. The elevator door had shut behind them, and here she now sits, gaping at the closed doors like a… ugh, she’s too frazzled to think of analogies right now. Like a very startled and confused girlfriend, basically.

She hears a frustrated huff from the desk behind her. “Hey, you mind closing that fly trap? I can smell that onion bagel from here.”

Amy obliges, but whips her head round to face Gina, eyes still wide as saucers. “Did you hear that?”

Gina rolls her eyes (without shifting her gaze from her phone screen, somehow). “What, Jake being a sappy sack of crap right before my very eyes? Unfortunately, yes- Holt hasn’t lifted the headphone ban, yet.”

Boyle beams from his desk, shaking his head fondly. “You guys are so cute. Gotta be the big six-month anniversary soon, right? If you’re looking for restaurants, I’ve got an entire binder ready and waiting for your perusal- there’s this _wonderful_ little place on the upper-east side that’ll give you a personalised beetroot cake for half-price if you tell them I sent you!”

Amy glances furtively between them both. “Seriously, you didn’t find anything weird about… _that?_ ”

Terry shrugs behind his desk, his spoonful of yogurt barely faltering in its path to his mouth. Charles looks as cheerfully oblivious as usual, and Gina just watches her blankly for a second before turning her gaze back to her screen.

Amy is starting to feel like she’s fallen into some weird alternate dimension. “But… but he said…”

Charles cocks his head curiously, and Amy realises maybe a little too late that she should have kept quiet and tried to figure this out on her own. “He said what now?”

“He said…” Amy falters, still processing. “Love you…”

Charles beams. “That was adorable- you guys are like an old married couple!” he clocks her stunned expression and frowns. “What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s just…” and yes, she is definitely wishing she hadn’t drawn attention to this in front of the whole bullpen now. “He hasn’t actually, well, said that before. Ever, in fact.”

Charles’ high-pitched ‘Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!” overlaps almost harmoniously with Terry’s ‘ _Daaamn!_ ”. Gina gives this new information about half a second’s consideration before shrugging and turning back to her phone. Hitchcock doesn’t hear because for some reason he’s pulling his shirt over his head, and Scully just has his usual expression of mild confusion. “Aren’t you guys engaged or something?”

Charles’ head whips round to her comically. “Ohmygoodness, you’re _engaged?!_ ”

“What? No! No, that was for a case!” Amy hastily defends. Yes, it may have been that particular undercover stint that triggered the evidence locker kiss, big feelings talk and subsequent six months of dating, but marriage? No. Strictly off the table. For now. Why is she thinking about this?! “Look, can we just take a step back, here?”

“Right, yes, of course,” Charles says apologetically- before very, very _un_ apologetically dropping down into Jake’s vacated chair and grinning at her across the table, head rested on his hands like a teenage girl awaiting the 4-11 from her best friend’s Friday night hook-up. “Soooooo, you guys seriously haven’t said the big L-word yet?”

“Well, apparently we have _now_ ,” Amy snaps, tossing the rubber band ball agitatedly from hand to hand. Trust Jake to drop a bombshell like that and then just _walk out of the precinct._ This is ‘Romantiz Stylez’ all over again. She’d love it if just once he’d give her two goddamn minutes to respond to these out-of-the-blue confessions he loves so much. Like he loves her. Apparently. Crap.

Charles’ answering squeal almost falls outside the range of human hearing. “Well, it’s about time! Honestly I’m surprised- you guys are so smitten, I always just assumed you’d long passed that!”

Amy knows her cheeks must be bright red. “What? No I’m not! I mean, _we’re_ not, I mean…” she trails off, looking away from Charles to all the other curious faces around the precinct. Detectives, witnesses, the odd lawyer, even Savant the IT guy (who seems to have chosen today of all days to come out of whatever nerd den he hides in most of the time. Figures). Curious, but remarkably unfazed. “Did…” she levels her gaze at everyone in turn, even a couple of lawyers she’s only seen here a handful of times. “Did _everyone_ here think we’d…?”

A chorus of shrugs, non-committal mumbles and sheepish nods answers her. She groans, smacking her head on the desk a little too hard and sending some meticulously organised papers fluttering to the ground. “Seriously? _Everyone?_ ”

Even Gina’s paying attention at this point- but when would she ever pass up an opportunity to see Amy publicly humiliated? “It’s kinda obvious, Boo,” she drawls.

Amy feels like a rabbit in the headlights- did everyone in this office seriously know the status of her relationship before she did? Has she just been sailing along in blissful ignorance to how they must come across?

No. She’s Amy Santiago. She’s cautious, she’s methodical, she wouldn’t be making a lovesick fool of herself a few months into dating her co-worker. Hell, they haven’t even _kissed_ in the precinct (aside from a few sneaky sessions in the evidence lock-up when they have a light workload, but it’s not like she broadcasts it). She’s not even sure she _loves_ Jake, per se. Well… she’s not actually sure how she feels about Jake. Does she like him? Yes. Has their relationship so far yielded the best romantic and- a-hem- _sexual_ experiences of her life? Quite possibly. And yes, maybe she smiles whenever he enters a room, and maybe she feels a weight lift from her shoulders whenever his name pops up on her phone, and maybe she feels the happiest she’s ever been when she’s with him and he makes her laugh more than any of her previous boyfriends could, and maybe she loves the way he begs to be the little spoon when they have movie nights and the way he can quote almost every line from the first two Shrek movies, and the feel of his chest beneath her cheek and his soft tummy under her arm in the mornings and hearing him snoring gently through that big, stupid nose and- oh, _crap,_ she’s in love.

“Oh…” she says weakly, suddenly very, _very_ glad that she’s already seated because she can feel her knees are ready to buckle.

“Amy?” Charles asks, concerned, standing up and hovering by her side awkwardly. “Are you alright? Oh, gosh, do you need to swoon? Don’t worry, Ames, I’m here to catch you!”

“No, Charles, I’m fine,” she says unconvincingly, waving him away. “I just… need some air.”

She gets up, grabbing her purse on the way to the fire doors, and hears Gina snort behind her.

“Oh, honey,” she coos, and she can hear the amusement in her tone. “There aren’t enough shame cigarettes in the world…”

* * *

 

Something’s been nagging at Jake ever since he left the precinct, but he can’t quite put his finger on it. And so he does what any good (and devastatingly handsome) detective would do in this situation; he retraces his steps.

Seven A.M, his alarm goes off. He practically leaps from under the covers. It’s not that he underwent some magical transformation into being a morning person, but the way he sees it there’s no point wasting the day with Amy waiting for him at work. Besides, he likes to surprise her in the mornings, and you have to get up pretty damn early to get the jump on Amy Santiago. He has breakfast (Count Chocula with orange soda, but not too much- he wants to still have room for his bagel when Amy brings it), brushes his teeth (not very well, but if one wants to kiss Amy Santiago in the mornings, one has to stick to a few codes of conduct), receives a good morning text from the lady in question (grammatically correct, of course. He replies with a string of emojis), then he’s dressed and out the door in record time.

Seven forty-five, Amy’s car pulls up outside the precinct. He leaps from his hiding place to plant a long (and wet- who’s sloppy now, Dora?) good morning kiss on her lips, takes the proffered bagel, and holds her hand right up until the moment the elevator doors open on their floor- he knows how she feels about keeping it professional.

They take their seats: he works on his cases, she on hers. They trade theories on the Bragdanowytz case around noon. He and Rosa are called into Holt’s office, he abandons his desk (which has been cunningly rearranged to afford him the best view of his girlfriend across their shared space. Smort!) and takes his orders. Crime scene a few blocks away needs sussing out, urgently- as indicated by the absolutely no signs on the Captain’s impassive face. He flings on his jacket, plants another cheerfully sloppy kiss on Santiago’s forehead, bids her farewell and ducks into the closing elevator beside Rosa, barely finding a second to wave at his (strangely startled-looking) girlfriend before the doors close completely.

What followed was a strangely long car drive (rush hour traffic, what’re you gonna do?) and a crime scene that was nowhere near as interesting as indicated. As far as he could tell, looking at the body splayed across the floor, it seemed to be an open and shut heart attack deal. But he’d learned his lesson from his time as the secondary on Boyle’s famous fat guy murder, and he had the details sent to his desk and the body sent to the autopsy table anyway. Better safe than sorry, but he doubts they’ll come up with anything new.

So what exactly has got him so damn preoccupied today?

He’s racking his brain trying to put his finger on it. Did he leave the oven on? Nah, he never eats anything but take-out. Did he feed the dog? What the Hell is he talking about, he doesn’t have a dog. Uhhh… did he remember to put pants on today? A quick glance down tells him that yes, yes he did (thank God). _Come on, Peralta_ , he tells himself firmly, brow furrowing. _You’re a detective for crap’s sake, figure it out… Something to do with… Amy._

He runs over all his encounters with his girlfriend so far today and finds nothing out of the ordinary. Is he forgetting an important date? Is it their anniversary? No, that’s next month. Her birthday? She just had her birthday. Ack, this is hard. What was the last thing he said to her?

_“’Kay, love you, byeeeee!”_

He goes rigid, eyes widening as he stares directly ahead at the victim’s puke-green wallpaper. “ _Oh…_ ” he breathes, notepad and pen hanging limply from his hands. “Oh, _noooo…_ ”

“What’s up?” Rosa’s no-nonsense voice demands from beside him, not looking up from her own notebook (which she’s probably just doodling in, since writing stuff down’s for nerds, apparently). “You’re acting weird.”

Jake groans, smacking his head lightly against the gross wall (and receiving a dirty look from one of the crime techs for the disruption). “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” he curses himself under his breath.

“Peralta, what the Hell?” Rosa snaps, flipping her notebook shut and glaring at him.

“I’m such an _idiot,_ ” he responds glumly, leaning his forehead against the wall wearily (and no, the colour is no nicer up close).

Rosa cocks her head, face softening ever so slightly- the softness does not extend to her voice. “What did you do now?”

His words are a little muffled seeing as he has his face smushed against the wallpaper, but he thinks she understands. “Told Amy I love her.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Rosa says flatly, unamused. “You guys are lame, we get it. So?”

“ _So,_ ” he mimics grouchily. “I’ve never told her that before.”

She stares at him for a second, expressionless. Before a slight smile pokes at her lips. “Ha.”

He glares as best he can from his low vantage point. “You’re such a great friend.”

“So that’s why she looked like a weird fish,” Rosa says, almost gleeful. “Oh, wow, you totally just left her hanging. Smooth.”

“You don’t need to rub it in,” Jake complains, straightening up with a great deal of effort. Oh, God, he dropped the L-bomb and didn’t even stay to see the fallout. This is ‘Romantic Stylez’ all over again. Will he never learn?

He spins round to face Rosa, glowering. “Goddammit, Rosa, this has been bugging me all day- why didn’t you say something?”

At the look she levels at him, he really starts wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. Rosa has this way of making your life flash before your eyes. But, fortunately for him, she just shrugs.

“I just didn’t think it was a big deal,” she says. “Whatever.”

 _“Not a big deal?”_ Jake repeats, almost reaching Boyle levels of high-pitched disbelief. “But- but… Love! I said that! The actual word! _To Amy’s face!_ How is that not a big deal?!”

“Hey, I didn’t even know it was the first time ‘til like five minutes ago,” Rosa says. “Kind of figured you guys had passed that already, you’ve been building up long enough.”

Jake’s defensive posture sags, shoulders falling forward. Is he really that obvious? Are his feelings for Amy just written all over his face for the world to see? Has he waited too long to let it slip out? Not long enough? Oh, God, what the heck’s he gonna say to Amy when he gets back to the precinct? Is she gonna kiss him? Dump him? Oh, God, she wouldn’t do that, would she? Especially not in front of all their co-workers. Of course she wouldn’t. Would she?

“Peralta!”

He shakes his head, trying to scatter the thoughts like shaking water from his ears, and meets Rosa’s half concerned, half annoyed gaze. “What?”

She crosses her arms. “Quit freaking out.”

He takes a deep breath, nodding jerkily. “Right. Sorry. Ah, heck, Rosa, what am I gonna do?”

She meets his gaze unflinchingly. “I think you know the answer.”

“Yeah, of course,” he sighs, checking his pockets. Wallet? Check. Phone? Check. “Run away it is. Wonder if there’s any planes to Disneyland going out today…”

_“Peralta!”_

“Okay, okay, kidding! Yeah, I’ll talk to her. Good plan.”

Rosa rolls her eyes. He should really buy her a bottle of scotch for all the times she’s played fairy godmother. Or at least a thank you card.

* * *

 

Amy spends a little more time than necessary in the evidence lock-up that day, desperate to rationalise her thoughts into neat little boxes like the ones that surround her without the constant observation of her co-workers to put her off. But even this place isn’t as far removed from the situation as it used to be- not after so many kisses of varying levels of life-changing-ness with a certain detective against these very shelves. She averts her eyes guiltily from a broken strut on one of the units, although she still holds Jake responsible for that. He definitely overestimated how much weight those things could take. Of course, she hadn’t exactly fought him on it, but… well, their mouths were a little preoccupied at the time.

She hears the door swing open behind her, and then shut a moment later. “Evenin’, m’lady,” Jake says chirpily, and she turns round in time to see him complete a sweeping bow. He grins at her goofily, and she almost forgets to be mad at him.

“You know, you’ve really gotta stop leaving me on cliff-hangers like that,” Amy chastises him, trying to keep her tone light. “It’d be great if I could get a word in edgeways, just once or twice.”

He at least has the decency to look a little guilty. “Uh… Sorry?”

She gives him a withering look- she’s good at those. “Really? That’s it?”

He shrugs. “I’m not taking it back, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“No, of course I’m not, I just-!” she groans, leaning heavily against the nearest shelving unit with her arms crossed. “It was just… sudden.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says, and he does sound genuinely remorseful, but she’s still irritated.

“And it’s just… Ugh! That’s a _big thing,_ Jake! Even Teddy and I didn’t make it that far, and then you just go spilling it like that and you don’t even give me a chance to respond, I mean…” she shrugs helplessly, meeting his gaze. “Why’d you leave so quickly? I mean… you weren’t _worried,_ were you? Did you think I’d be mad? I know I’m mad _now_ but that’s just ‘cause you’ve left me to figure this out all day on my own and honestly I wish just once you would let me-!”

“Breathe, Ames,” he reminds her gently, a small smile teasing at his lips. Ugh, what right has he got to just _smile_ like that while she has to be the neurotic one? Super unfair.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she says (after an obliging intake of breath). “Why’d you scatter so quickly after telling me that? I thought we were done with the hit-and-run confessions.”

He shuffles his feet and glances down, and Amy doesn’t need to be a detective to see the guilt and embarrassment rolling off him in waves. “Uh, well, if you want the truth, I, uh…” he winces. “Didn’t really realise I’d said it?”

She stares at him and spots not a hint of mocking in his expression. “Seriously?”

He nods sheepishly. “Yeah. It, uh, didn’t exactly hit me ‘til a couple hours ago.”

It takes her a little while to find her voice amongst the disbelief. “Jake, how could you just _not realise-?_ ”

He makes a helpless noise in the back of his throat and shrugs. “Well, it… it just happened.”

Amy tries to demand _‘How?!’_ but finds she can’t honestly form words. She’s actually glad for once about Jake’s uncanny ability to read her because he answers her silent question unprompted.

“Okay, look, cards on the table; I didn’t realise because it wasn’t a surprise,” he says, and any remainder of his goofy bravado has trickled away for the time being, replaced with the barefaced honesty that Amy still isn’t a hundred percent sure how to handle coming from him. “I’ve been saying it to you in my head every morning and night for weeks now, I guess I just didn’t notice it spill out along with all the other crap I say. I’m sorry, alright? If I had better control of my mouth I would have found a _way_ more romantic way to break it to you and then we could be kissing right now instead of yelling and I get it, I screwed up, but- _mmpfh!”_

As sweet as it when he goes on a nervous ramble, Amy really just needs him to shut the Hell up for a second. She kisses him until they’re both breathless, and then kisses him some more. She cards her fingers through his hair, arches her back into his touch when his arms wrap around her, and lets out a slightly embarrassing noise that she reallyhopes her co-workers didn’t hear when he angles his head to deepen the kiss. Goddammit, he _really_ should not have this much power over her in public places. At least he’s not the only one, she thinks with satisfaction as an equally compromising sound erupts from his lips.

They don’t break apart until they have no other choice, gasping for breath amidst the musty air of the evidence lock-up, and Jake gives her that look again. Those eyes and that little smile, like she hung the damn moon. It’s very distracting.

“…I’ve lost my train of thought,” she says quietly, blinking as if waking from a daydream.

He nods. “Same,” his cheeky grin is back. “Well, we can’t think- might as well make out some more!”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

He looks deeply flattered. “Why, thank you!”

“It’s not a compliment, jackass.”

He shrugs. “Hey- you wouldn’t like me half as much if I wasn’t such a lovable rapscallion. Keep you on your toes, don’t I?” he smirks with an exaggerated wink thrown in for good measure.

She meets his lovely brown eyes again, and a shy smile works its way onto her lips. “No, you’re right,” she chuckles under her breath, hands nervously smoothing down his shirt. “Guess that’s why I love you.”

Now it’s his turn to look dazed. But when the shock subsides the smile that breaks across his face is brighter than a sunrise. “Really?” he asks quietly, like he can’t quite believe it.

She sees an opportunity. “Really really,” she says sagely, in her best Shrek impersonation (which is still, let’s face it, terrible).

They both burst out laughing, his arms tightening around her, her hands sliding up to his neck as she giggles into his shirt. “Okay, what have I told you about doing accents?” he says between guffaws.

She nuzzles her cheek into the crook of his neck, closing her eyes. “It’s why you love me,” she whispers.

She feels him press his face against her hair, sinks into the warm feeling of his arms embracing her. “Damn right…” he breathes. Amy smiles against his collarbone, holding him tighter and still not tight enough.

Nope. She is definitely never getting any work done in this room ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, it may be silly but I hope you had fun!
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated- and I promise I am working on the Hogwarts AU, I'm just kinda all over the place at the moment. Super pumped for season 3 though, which'll probably give me a fresh burst of Jamy feels and hopefully a second wind where writing is concerned. Until then, stay awesome! X


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